"SHADOWED" IN CALCUTTA
After usual incidents of ship life, Sir Donald and Esther are at
Calcutta.
A few days were spent in rest and sight-seeing before active search for
the Dodge family was begun. Sir Donald had been in the neighborhood of
the former Dodge home, and by inquiry learned that the family had moved.
Questions as to present whereabouts of former occupants failed to elicit
any satisfactory information. All that he heard from the neighbors was
that Mrs. Dodge and children left suddenly in a closed conveyance, never
returning nor disposing of the house furniture. The owner had taken
possession of the premises and leased to another tenant.
Having inquired every day for about two weeks and learned nothing more
of this family, Sir Donald concluded to make thorough search.
The postoffice, rent-collecting agencies, hospitals, and poor lists,
hotel-registers, mortuary records, with many other means of discovery,
were unavailingly employed. Investigation at the bank where Mary Dodge
drew the hundred pounds failed to disclose any clew to the identity of
the depositor or of her movements.
Difficulties served to whet Sir Donald's desire for success. He employed
discreet persons to search different districts of the city and enlisted
the police in locating the Dodge family. In this way much time passed,
but no clew was found.
Sir Donald pressed this search, not only because of interest in the
welfare of the family, but as likely to furnish additional links in the
chain of circumstantial proofs against the Laniers. He doubted not that
Pierre Lanier had effected their removal.
From London advices he learned that this villain was then in Calcutta,
disguised, but shadowed by detectives who were not to be hampered in
their methods. To Esther he said:
"If these sleuths knew of the Paris confession and would cooeperate with
me, how easily the family might be located. But this would necessitate
taking them into the Dodge confidence with all its perils for that
unhappy man. This I must not do. For me to do such a thing is
impossible. I am handicapped by scruples having no warrant in legal
code, but more autocratic than mandate of Kaiser or Czar."
Esther resumes her Paris habit of visiting at the hospitals. Sir Donald
occasionally accompanies his daughter. Returning from one of these
calls, Esther speaks of the curious actions of a shabbily dressed old
man then in sight, whom she often had met. Sir Donald recalls frequently
having seen this same seedy, aged individual. They slowly walk along
with well-dissembled unconcern, turning several unusual corners, with
the old pedestrian always in view. They will keep watch of this stranger
without arousing his suspicion.
That afternoon Sir Donald employed a small boy to accompany him at a
short distance, ready at a given signal to follow an old, poorly dressed
man, learn his home, and give immediate notice.
In the evening the boy reported having trailed this old party for
several hours, until he was lost in a distant part of the city.
The boy was engaged for further service and cautioned not to tell, but
to watch every day for Sir Donald's appearance on the street.
This spying is kept up for over a week, the stranger mysteriously
disappearing each day at the same place. Turning an angle in a narrow
lane, this seedy-looking old chap vanishes as by magic, there being no
opening anywhere for his sudden exit. The boy gets scared, and refuses
longer to keep up his part of the program.
Sir Donald promises to hire another boy to help in this work. It is
arranged that they meet next morning at eight o'clock in front of the
hotel, when the two boys will go to the place where the old man so
strangely disappeared. Leaving the new assistant in full view of this
turn, facing toward the street from which the stranger made the abrupt
exit, the other boy is to quickly come back and await Sir Donald.
This ruse is carried out to the letter, with interesting results.
Sir Donald has been kept in sight by this feeble tramp while moving
about the city, and the boy warms the accustomed trail until the usual
place of disappearance is reached. The new picket runs up, and both boys
stroll along down this last turn of narrow lane, following a
black-whiskered, neatly dressed, quick-stepping fellow, until entering a
stairway he is lost to sight.
The boys return and report.
The game has been located, and Sir Donald can investigate at leisure.
Having driven past this stairway before sunrise of the next day, and
noted the surroundings, Sir Donald returns to his hotel, charges the
little fellows to say nothing, pays them well, and dispenses with their
services.
After making the final turn, this stooping, slow-paced, shabbily dressed
form is changed into an erect, agile, dapper, dudish-looking specimen,
barring the coal-black beard and heavy moustache. Though this
transformation takes place in full view of the juvenile picket, the boy
cannot explain any of the details, but is sure of the miracle. A small
package is all that is taken up the stairway.
That this disguise was assumed to spy upon Sir Donald's actions is
evident. It is quite probable that no stranger would act thus, except he
had reasons for wishing not to be identified. Whoever has resorted to
such shifts must be interested either in thwarting search for the Dodge
family or in unmasking of the Lanier plot. Solution of this affair
doubtless will aid in solving one or the other of these vexing problems.
Here again there is difficulty. Sir Donald must neither visit this
hiding-place nor openly take part in learning about the man who has been
shadowing them. This might defeat or embarrass both investigations. He
dislikes confiding in too many people and must tell no one about the
Dodge confession, nor will he furnish any clew by which this wretched
man may be compromised. After revolving in his mind many plans, Sir
Donald concludes to employ two persons who shall constantly shadow this
stranger and report.
Though questioned by the men employed in this work, he declines to
furnish any explanation of his purposes.
"The pay will be good and the object is honorable. No crisis shall be
forced, but I will exercise discretion upon the facts. Full, correct
reports are required. Dispatch is not essential."
With double shifts employed in this affair, Sir Donald and Esther pursue
their accustomed habits of life in Calcutta.
Though possessing much power of concentration toward the accomplishment
of a fixed purpose, Sir Donald could think of other things while
exclusive agencies were working out his will. Too many voices were
awaiting hearing for him to stop his ears through infatuation of one
narrow aim. Specialist fame had little charm for this comprehensive,
broad-gauged, yet delicately adjusted soul. One of his odd sayings
seemed characteristic of the man:
"If all culture were so much acquired stock for use in a future life,
how limited the patrimony of those famous specialists, under new
conditions, whose 'occupation is gone.'"
This mutual spying is kept up with no decisive results. Nothing happens
to justify Sir Donald in bringing matters to a crisis, and there never
seems any certainty that an emergency is in sight. Taking into account
all the circumstances, Sir Donald thinks that perhaps this queer
masquerader is engaged in special work in hope of thereby locating some
criminal. That this human enigma knows something of Sir Donald's
purposes in sailing for Calcutta is apparent, but that there is any
desire to thwart them is doubtful. Can it be that one of London sleuths
in his employ is playing such waiting game, hoping to find William
Dodge?
No one knows of the Dodge confession but Esther and Sir Donald. Probably
this fellow on detective work to "bag" all or one of the conspirators
against Alice Webster had heard of Sir Donald's efforts to locate the
Dodge family, and is keeping posted as to results. It is sure that this
spy is neither Dodge nor one of the Laniers. Sir Donald will relax the
hunt and await results.
With Esther he now rides about the city, paying no apparent heed to
other than incidental interests.
Esther enlists her father in little charitable enterprises. She enters
into the spirit of these with happy zeal. With quickened pulses and
quiet joy, this refined, cultured, sweetly sympathetic girl is tireless
in her gentle ministries. Unostentatious in her work, yet such service
cannot escape comment.
Charitably inclined people call upon father and daughter. These calls
are both welcome and distasteful. Thereby opportunities are brought to
their notice, but tinkling notoriety jars upon refined benevolent sense.
Overzealous would-be almoners of desired bounties press special claims
with deferential yet impertinent persistence.
Jostled and bored by these shallow enthusiasts, Sir Donald and Esther
find it expedient to give and minister by stealth. Such course evokes
adverse comment, but for this they care little. Hearing of some
criticisms upon his failure to contribute through a certain channel, Sir
Donald remarks to Esther:
"The rending instinct is not monopolized by that breed anciently
stampeded 'down a steep place into the sea.'"
Esther looks puzzled, then shocked, but accepts her father's smile and
caress as a full apology.
For several weeks this kind of life is passed, each day having some
charity to its account. Though still earnestly hoping that the Dodge
family may be found, Sir Donald begins to realize that there are many
needy wards not so hard to locate. He becomes impressed with the
democracy of human want and with the subtle vibrations of common chords.
Father and daughter have called upon a poor family, about whose
destitution they learned on the previous day. Substantials for immediate
want are brought. In response to sympathetic questions, the poor,
grateful mother tells her pitiful story.
A young mechanic and a trusting, happy girl marry in Edinburgh. He is
skillful, with good pay. They live frugally, but in comfort. The firm
has a branch house in Calcutta. There is a vacancy, and this young man
is offered the position. All expenses of the family for the trip will be
paid, and the salary is better. Strongly attached to kindred in
Edinburgh, they yet decide to seek better conditions in this far land.
They sail, and find their new home pleasant. Promotion follows and
life's outlook is cheerful. Four children surround the family board,
their future prospects bright, no fear of want harassing the fond
parents, who doubt not the permanence of lucrative employment.
A slight dispute arises between manager and foreman. Neither yields the
immaterial point, and the small breach widens, resulting in the latter's
discharge. He seeks other work, but finds none. Two children sicken and
die. The husband soon is stricken with fever, and after a severe
sickness of many weeks recovers, but with disordered mind. He becomes
violent, and is removed to an asylum. All their savings soon are gone,
and the mother, with two hungry children, knows not which way to turn
for help. In this dilemma they are visited by a kind-hearted woman whose
husband had been bookkeeper for the same firm, but was discharged for
dishonesty. Her husband had gone to England on some business, and was
now in Bombay, but sent money. Funds and supplies came regularly from
this generous friend, but months ago these ceased.
She called at this kind woman's home, but was surprised to learn of her
removal, no one knew where. Supplies and money soon were gone, and for
several months she and her children lived on scant fare from wages for
odd jobs of sewing and housework.
She had been obliged to move into this poor part of the city because of
cheaper rents. That week she had met Mary Dodge in one of the narrow
lanes and called her by name, but received no response. The woman must
have heard her, as she looked scared and hurried on, entering an old
cabin just around the corner. Out of work, her children famishing, she
met a kind gentleman, who, learning her distress, said he knew of a
wealthy Englishman and his daughter, and would acquaint them with her
needs.
Without any question, Sir Donald and Esther drove back. In a few hours
both returned, a cartload of supplies and some clothing accompanying
their conveyance.
Sir Donald inquired where Mary Dodge lived. The thankful woman
volunteered to show him, and they drove for some distance, when Esther
was left in charge while Mrs. McLaren piloted Sir Donald through
winding lanes to within a few rods of the cabin which Mrs. Dodge had
been seen entering. Without being observed, they were soon back to the
McLaren shanty. Promising to return, father and daughter, much elated,
drove to their hotel.
Now that Mary Dodge has been found, discretion must be used. It will not
do frankly and fully to discuss with her the situation. Such additional
confidence would be fraught with indefinite, harmful results.
Sir Donald plans many ways of getting at the desired information. He
will not even tell this wife about having met her husband in Paris until
more is known of present feeling between them.
Why did she move so suddenly? What the cause for living secluded in such
part of Calcutta? How occurred her poverty? Who advised the change? From
whence came means of subsistence? Are marital sentiments still
cherished?--were some of the questions first to be solved.
No well defined details of methods to be employed could be arranged, but
rising very early, Sir Donald rode over to near the Dodge cabin,
accompanied by the driver, who was left in charge of the conveyance. By
the early move it was likely no one would follow to spy upon his
actions.
Knocking at the low door, he hears hurried movements. Soon a blind is
pushed slightly aside, and a scared face peers from the narrow opening.
Again knocking, there is no response. To allay any possible fears, he
gently says:
"Open to a friend of the family!"
There was something in the tone inspiring confidence, and he was timidly
admitted. That inquisitive, frightened look confirmed Sir Donald's
fears. Taking the proffered stool, he sat down, much embarrassed.
How shall he broach this sensitive subject and wound anew tender
sensibilities of the innocent sufferer from the crimes of others?
Sir Donald follows the sense of compassion, which often is the acme of
intrinsic craft. Glancing at the poor cot on which a sick girl is lying,
he kindly inquires as to her ailment. Learning that it is some sort of
low fever, about which the doctor has not expressed any positive
opinion, Sir Donald suggests changes involving outlay of money, and says
that these will be attended to at once. In apparently offhand manner, an
order is written out on an uptown firm for several articles of food,
clothing, bedding, and small household furniture. Handing this to the
surprised woman, he remarked:
"It's all right--a part of my business."
Noting that the pleased look had been followed by one of uneasy
perplexity, he says:
"Perhaps you are a little modest about presenting such an order, or the
firm do not know you, Mrs. Dodge?"
The poor woman knows not what reply to make.
Having won the confidence of Mrs. Dodge, Sir Donald bluntly says:
"Do not be alarmed. I know your name and something of your past, but I
am a real friend of the family, and can be trusted. Tell me just as much
or little as you please, but let me know all about present troubles. You
are not to blame, and your children must be cared for."
Seeing that she still wavered, Sir Donald gently says:
"You need not tell me about anything, but what can I do for you?"
Before time for reply, the sick child feebly said:
"Mamma, isn't papa gone a long time?"
The mother looked frightened, and quickly stepped to the cot, as if to
caution the invalid.
"Yes; but, mamma, he has been gone so long, and does not write! Is
Bombay a great way off, mamma?"
Moved by impulse to caution the child, motherly instinct toward uttering
comforting assurance and wifely loyalty to her husband's safety, the
poor woman, stammering incoherently, looked helplessly at Sir Donald.
"But, mamma, the old gentleman said last night that papa might come any
time, with lots of money."
Fully convinced that this loyal wife still trusted in her absent husband
and was fearful of possible identification, Sir Donald now concludes to
learn the whole truth.
Telling Mrs. Dodge that he has news for her, they sit down on a bench at
the farther end of the cabin.
Kindly but positively asserting that he knew much more than she about
her husband's past life, and could do him much harm, he stated his
desire was to help. Some professed friends were Mr. Dodge's enemies,
interested in ruining him to shield themselves. These were adroit, and
posed as her friends while plotting the ruin of both. It was to save the
whole family from deceitful schemes that he now begged her to trust him
implicitly, keeping back nothing.
"You owe it to yourself and children to let me know all, that I may help
in these troubles."
"Mamma, I dreamed about Brother Benny last night."
Still Mrs. Dodge hesitated.
"Benny reached out his arms and said, 'Come, Sister Nellie!'"
The reserve which Sir Donald's adroit appeals fail to remove yields to
that childish clamor, coercive as brooding of halcyon when the wind is
still.
How the husband unjustly had been suspected, discharged, and failed to
get employment; to what depths of poverty the family had sunk; the
fortunate meeting of William Dodge with Pierre Lanier, who had important
business and would pay so well; such opportune relief when the family
were hungry and destitute; the husband's trip to London and stay in that
far-off city; his removal to Bombay, with other incidents previously
related at the Paris confession, were told.
Still Mrs. Dodge said nothing about the particular points so vital to
Sir Donald.
Money was sent and letters written. Her husband unavoidably was detained
for a long time in Bombay, but expected to get the London business
finished through negotiations with parties there. It took a long time to
hear from Bombay. He gave her money before leaving for London, and she
received an additional one hundred pounds. The family lived well, but
not extravagantly, on this. She helped a needy woman who had several
small children. Her husband wrote that he soon would be home and have
more money. About the time he was expected back a friend came and
shocked her with the news that influential persons opposed to Pierre
Lanier had conspired to procure his arrest along with that of William
Dodge. To outwit these enemies both of the Laniers and her husband must
disappear. Their tricky foes would watch the mails and harass the Dodge
family. For the present all writing must cease, and the Dodge family
move. This removal must be prompt, and nothing was to be said about it.
She did as advised. Her surprise was great at being conveyed in a
roundabout way for several hours, and unloaded with the children, after
midnight, in a narrow street. This friend said not to be frightened, as
all would soon be fixed, and conducted them through the winding lanes to
the cabin. The family had lived there ever since and never heard from
William Dodge.
Another pause. Mrs. Dodge hesitates to proceed further. Sir Donald
inquires:
"What time did Pierre Lanier call last night?"
Looking straight at Mary Dodge, answer could not be evaded.
"At about ten o'clock."
"Was Paul with him?"
"Yes," is the startled reply.
"Why did they come disguised?"
"Please do not ask me any more!" pleads the poor woman.
"Mrs. Dodge, you and your husband are in danger from these two villains.
Tell me everything!"
"They were being shadowed, and I must go with them."
"Why?"
"On account of the London business."
"Were you to go with them to see your husband?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Near the wharf."
"Did you go?"
"No, I could not leave my sick child."
"The steamer arrived last night?"
"Yes."
"You did not see your husband?"
"No."
"He is in danger; tell me all about it!"
Greatly frightened, Mary Dodge continues:
"They urged me to go anyhow, as it would not take long. I positively
refused to leave my sick girl at that time of night. Pierre Lanier
frowned and Paul looked awfully fierce. They scared me so! It then
seemed to me that they would kill us both."
"Why?"
"Pierre owes my husband several hundred pounds, and I know about it."
"Were the Laniers and Mr. Dodge to come back with you to this place?"
"Pierre said for me to go with them to a house; they would leave and
soon return with my husband, and we could talk it all over."
"It is well for you that you did not go."
"Why do you think that?"
"You never would have returned."
"But have they murdered my husband?"
"It is probable that your refusal to go saved his life. When did the
Laniers say they would again call?"
"When they left, Pierre said:
"'We may call again to-night and bring some one to stay with the
children.'
"I replied, 'Do bring William with you!'
"Pierre said:
"'Not yet; it would be unsafe.'"
Realizing that an emergency in the life of the Dodge family is at hand,
and that there must be prompt action to prevent tragic results, Sir
Donald gives directions.
Mrs. Dodge must stay in the balance of the day, with bolted doors. If at
night the Laniers call, she is to admit them. Sir Donald and another man
will come in the early evening, and occupy the next room, which shall be
without light. She must have only a dim candle in the other room. Watch
will be kept of the Lanier movements. If any violence be thought of, she
need have no fear of results. Sir Donald and his assistant will protect
her.
Much agitated, Mary Dodge consents, fully convinced of Sir Donald's
friendly purposes.
That evening at twilight supplies are brought, and the two spies take
their places in the dark room.
After about three hours, a knock is heard, and Mary Dodge unbolts the
door. Two disguised figures are admitted. From Mrs. Dodge's questions,
it is sure they are Pierre and Paul Lanier. An arrangement has been
effected by which she can see her husband the next day at two o'clock.
The location is given, and she must go heavily veiled. They will not
call for her. Neither of them will be present at the meeting. She and
her husband can talk matters over and then act for the best.
Not knowing whether to accept or reject this proposition, Mrs. Dodge
passes by the slightly open door, and from a signal decides to do as
advised. She promises to be on hand at appointed time and place.
Father and son hurry away, elated at their prospects of success in this
dark plot.
Leaving his fellow-watcher on guard, Sir Donald returns to the hotel.
Next day, Mary Dodge calls at an old house in the suburbs of Calcutta,
and promptly is admitted. Husband and wife are clasped in loving
embrace.
At this juncture, Pierre and Paul Lanier emerge from a trapdoor, cutting
off escape. With cocked pistols and drawn daggers, they advance upon the
terror-stricken pair.
A loud command to stop is heard, while a half-dozen armed men file
through the outside door. The Laniers and William Dodge are placed under
arrest, handcuffed together, and marched off to prison.
It is hard to say who was more surprised by this unexpected turn, Sir
Donald or Mary Dodge.
The head of Calcutta police had been consulted by Sir Donald, was told
of the proposed visit at the old house, and he promised to be present in
time to prevent any violence from the Laniers. Why had he come with such
force and arrested the three? When pressed for an explanation of his
conduct in arresting William Dodge, the officer laughed, and said:
"You just wait a while!"
Mary Dodge now suspects the good faith of Sir Donald, but he so
earnestly assures her of his own surprise at results that she is
convinced.
From cable advices it is sure that the London agency knows nothing about
such a move. Sir Donald cabled facts of the arrests to chief of the
London detective bureau, and requested instructions. From the reply it
is evident that something is wrong.
Recent reports from Bombay make it clear that William Dodge is there,
but eludes more definite location. However, tireless vigilance is being
used with hopes of success. Letters addressed to William Dodge at Bombay
were delivered, but not recently. Pierre and Paul Lanier lived at Bombay
and cut a social figure. They posed as wealthy aristocrats, and Paul was
lionized. He seemed haughty, but paid for information about eligible
heiresses. Both were very much interested in a rich Englishman and his
handsome niece. It was rumored that a marriage had been arranged between
these young people. The Englishman and old Pierre took a trip to
Calcutta together. About the time of their expected return, both Paul
and the girl disappeared. It was sure they did not sail from Bombay. The
whole affair is shrouded in mystery, but it is reasonably certain that
William Dodge and Paul Lanier are somewhere in or near Bombay. Pierre is
being shadowed in Calcutta.
This was the substance of London advices previous to the arrests.
That these are honest reports Sir Donald has no doubt. There has been
time for both Paul and William Dodge to have sailed from Bombay, but Sir
Donald is sure that a mistake has been made. The only evidence of Dodge
ever having been in Bombay is that his wife wrote him there, while her
husband was actually at Paris. Too, he had learned from Mrs. Dodge that
for many weeks Paul has been disguised in Calcutta.
The whole matter is much tangled, and Sir Donald doubts the efficiency
of those employed to unravel this web.
The Laniers are puzzled and greatly alarmed. Their captors do not deign
to explain. To all indignant protests these reserved officials are
evasive. Threats are jokingly parried.
The prisoners are separately jailed. No communication is permitted
between them. Days pass without any visits, except for bringing of
meals. There is manifested no disposition to engage any of the three in
talk upon the subject of their arrests.
William Dodge doubts not that Sir Donald Randolph has betrayed his
trust. Though neither of the Laniers nor Dodge had seen him on the day
of the arrests, yet all knew he was in Calcutta. The Laniers in disguise
frequently had passed him and Esther on the streets.
This indefinite waiting is most trying to the nerves of all. Neither
Pierre nor Paul knew what action was taken with Dodge. Both imagined
that he was being pumped. Neither knew but that the other was undergoing
some sort of prying ordeal.
William Dodge wondered that no one talked to him. Perhaps the Laniers
had accused him of the Thames murders. The bringing of that suit in his
name, death of Alice Webster, dismissal of the case, with subsequent
skulking, aliases and disguises, would make a strong circumstantial
chain. Against the charge of murder he could oppose only his own word.
His admitted actions, confession, and motive would be conclusive.
William Dodge sees himself on trial for the murder of Alice Webster,
with Pierre and Paul Lanier posing as friends of justice, aiding its
commissioned officers in vindication of an outraged law.
His weak impulses of fear and self-preservation settled down into a sort
of despairing stupor. He had sent for Sir Donald, but either the message
was not delivered, or that aristocrat declined to come. Possibly Sir
Donald had been refused admittance to the prison. Mary Dodge had not
visited her husband in custody, but perhaps such absence was discreet.
Still, an almost frantic desire to see his family, at times affected
him. Then followed brief stoical relapses, again replaced by fitful
determination to tell the whole tale, regardless of results.
As weeks passed without any formal arraignment or attempt to engage them
in talk on the subject of their arrests, neither being permitted to see
the other or William Dodge, all inquiries for cause of imprisonment
smilingly evaded, the strain on both Pierre and Paul became almost
unbearable. Either could face definite crises with resourceful,
audacious craft, but how meet indefinitely such waiting, obscure,
elusive tactics?
All knew they were entitled to speedy arraignment, and that such
extended custody without criminal charge, aid of counsel, or confronting
of witnesses was a serious abridgment of their rights, but why protest?
They were guilty of felonious crimes. Could it advantage these villains
to have speedy trials? William Dodge dreaded arraignment. Both Laniers
feared the worst. Over against consuming, chafing, harassing
uncertainty, is hesitating, cowering dread.
What could be the object of Calcutta police officials in this queer
procedure? Why should these sworn conservators of public rights,
ruthlessly trample upon statutory prerogatives? Were their oaths mere
formal blasphemies?
There is said to be both letter and spirit in statutes. This is an
elastic shift. Affirmative rights may be negatived by inadequate
remedies. Police supervision is paradoxical. While not versed in subtle
interpretations, it is alive to the right of a little wrong.
At length the reserve of jail officials slightly relaxes. There are
vague hints that confessions have been made. The prisoners become wildly
curious, but replies to their questions are evasive.
Dodge is frantic. Suggestions that could come only from Lanier treachery
startle him. His worst fears are to be realized. Doubtless Pierre and
Paul have charged him with the Thames murders. Thoroughly convinced of
their perfidy, he sends for head of the police department, and confesses
all.
Like tactics have been employed with Pierre and Paul. Much disposed as
each feels to seek personal safety in charging guilt upon Dodge, neither
knows what the other has divulged. Natural secretiveness and craft make
each alertly suspicious. Neither Lanier suspects the other of double
dealing as to interests of either. Both take refuge in stoical silence.
Finally father and son are brought together in presence of police
officials, and jointly informed as to certain parts of the Dodge
confession. They look questioningly at each other, neither making any
reply. Both seem to see that this meeting was had to remove any
hesitation either may have felt, through ignorance of possible
admissions or denials of the other.
For days, varying tactics are employed with these astute criminals, but
all such fail to elicit from either even a response. At last this
inquisition ceases. One day Pierre and Paul Lanier were discharged.
Greatly mystified at this unexpected move, neither cares to press for
explanations.
Without arraignment upon any formal charge, William Dodge still chafes
in Calcutta prison.